A Trip to the Dentist

Part 2

A/N I'd like to say thank you to everyone out there that read my story. I hope you enjoyed it. I love to write, but haven't written fan fiction since Moonlight. I am a huge fan of The Mentalist, Castle, and Bones, too, and I read all the fanfics I can, but haven't felt the urge to write until I watched In Plain Sight. There is something about Mary and Marshall's relationship that got my creative juices flowing again. I appreciate the wonderful response, and enjoy the comments. Thank you for encouraging me to continue. There will be at least one more part after this one, I think. I just write what comes to me, so we'll see.

This takes place after Mary and Raph broke up. Thoughts are in italics.

Mary studied Marshall as he slept, her fingers now gently tracing the outline of his face. How could I have been so blind, she wondered. The signs were all there, but she wasn't much of a sign person, so it's not surprising she missed them. He was her best friend, her only friend, and she cared about him more than anything. She would die for him, and she knew he would do the same for her. When had his feelings become more? When had hers?

She let her mind drift back to the day he got shot. She tried not to visit those thoughts much, but sometimes, in the dark of the night, she her mind remembered. He was really going to leave her. She could tell. She knew him and she saw something in his eyes that scared her. She also knew that she couldn't survive without him. He was her lifeline.

The moment he stopped breathing, she breathed for him. If he wouldn't have started breathing again, she wouldn't have been able to go on. A single tear slid down her cheek, as she relived that moment.

Her hand moved from his face into his hair again. Losing him was not an option. She leaned her head back to rest on the couch and closed her eyes, his steady breathing gently lulling her to sleep.

Marshall knew he had to be dreaming, because he heard Mary's voice, gently speaking to him, and felt her breath on his cheek, and felt her lips brush his. She pulled away, but he snuggled closer, and breathed in her scent. The only time he could indulge in this was in his dreams. If he ever tried to smell her, she would kick his ass, and ask questions later.

Hours later, the room was bathed in shadows. As the sun made it's decent, Marshall began to stir. He felt warm and safe and kept his eyes closed as long as possible to hold onto the dream world, where he was able to be close the woman he loved. As much as he tried to delay the inevitable, he was beginning to feel the need to use the little boy's room. He opened his eyes, and they took a moment to focus. When they did, he realized he was staring at someone's crotch.

This realization made him jerk up, causing him to roll off the couch, onto the floor with a loud thump. "Shit," he mumbled, scooting back as far away from the couch as he could. His unceremonious departure brought Mary back to earth with a start.

"Jesus, Marshall," she yelled. "What the hell?"

She looked down at him, cowering on the floor, and her face softened immediately, when she realized he probably had no idea what was going on.

He just stared at her, eyes still glassy from the nitrous oxide. She could see the question in his eyes, and chuckled to herself. He frowned at the sound, but was reluctant to speak. Mary smiled and leaned forward, offering her hand to help him up. He continued to stare at her, as if she had two heads. "What's going on?" He finally asked.

Her smiled widened. Realizing he was confused and wasn't going to take her hand, she slid onto the floor next to him. "I took you to the dentist, remember?" She asked.

Even in the dim light, she saw his eyes flicker with recognition. All he could remember was the two of them walking into the dentist office that morning, Mary pissy about having to wait until he was finished. After that, nothing.

He closed his eyes, and saw flashes, like snapshots running through his head. Mary helping him into the car, her arm around him, asking him questions about sex? Hold on, what? Mary reaching her hand into his pocket. God, he those drugs must have been pretty strong, he thought. I have never had dreams that felt so damn real. He opened his eyes, and their gazes met. The way she looked at him, he would swear she could read his thoughts, hell; she was looking straight into his soul. He tore his gaze away, and looked down, fiddling with the fringe on the pillow that had fallen with him, onto the floor.

"Marshall," she said softly, trying to get him to look at her. Silence. "Do you remember anything?"

He shook his head, refusing to talk, still messing with the pillow. She grabbed the pillow, suddenly, tossing it behind her onto the couch, startling Marshall. "That's it," she sighed. "Get up, Doofus. We are not having this conversation on the floor." She got up and plopped down on the couch, none to gently, patting the cushion next to her.

He looked up at her, questioningly. "What conversation?"

"Jesus, Marshall, just get your ass up here before I kick it across the room," she growled.

"Ok," he complied, and got up off the floor, brushing his pants off before settling in beside her on the couch. He sat at an angle, facing her. "Spill."